


pascal

by jpetrakis



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-27 07:57:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21388747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jpetrakis/pseuds/jpetrakis
Summary: “If I had more time, I would’ve written a shorter letter.” Running out of time, Sebastian writes a letter.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Sebastian Smythe
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	pascal

_ Je n'ai fait celle-ci plus longue que parce que je n'ai pas eu le loisir de la faire plus courte _

Sebastian ponders the quote as his pen scritch-scratches over the smooth sheet of paper. Ink mars the once clean canvas as he pours his heart and soul through the pen. Glancing up at the clock over the table, he realizes he’s running out of time. 

He wishes he could just shout out all he needed to say and be done with it; it’d be over in a matter of seconds. His days spent mouthing off, using his wit to fight his battles for him are all useless now. If only he could’ve just worn his heart on his sleeve then this whole misunderstanding would have never happened.

He wouldn’t be writing this letter.

He wouldn’t be trying so desperately to explain himself on these sheets of paper he’ll end up stuffing into an envelope, just to be opened and read by its addressee.

But Sebastian can’t think of any other way to make this right. He can’t think of any other way to get through save for running all those miles just to get to him.

But Sebastian can’t run. In fact, he can’t even leave to be where he knows he needs to be.

All he can hope for is that his letter gets delivered and read before his time is up.

All the words are running together and he’s sure he’s repeated some of his words at least twice or thrice; but they’re important words. They carry so much weight in his heart that writing them down ten, or even a hundred times over isn’t nearly enough to express them.

Another page filled with words, front and back, pushed aside as Sebastian continues his written soliloquy on another page. If he doesn’t finish this letter soon, he’ll become its only reader. He can’t let that happen.

He  _ needs _ Blaine to know how he truly feels.

Once Sebastian feels satisfied with what he's written, he's careful to fold the papers and neatly writes out Blaine's address on the envelope. Memories of the times the two of them spent in Blaine's home flashes through Sebastian's head, that it brings a faint smile to his face that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

He shoves the memories aside to focus on the task at hand. 

After pasting extra postage on the envelope just in case, Sebastian gives the letter to the man outside the room. It's out of his hands now; he can only hope that Blaine will actually read his letter. It's his last-ditch effort since Blaine stopped taking his calls and even went so far as to change his number.

None of Blaine's friends or family will give out his new number after what happened-- especially not to Sebastian.

Sebastian can only hope Blaine will read his letter before it's too late.

* * *

With an exasperated sigh, Blaine finally takes a seat after a full day of being on his feet. The letter he received in the morning has been burning a hole through his blazer pocket all day and he's been wanting to read it since the moment he'd gotten it.

Now is the time and place to read it; he knows it must be serious if Sebastian actually took the time to write him a letter. He notes Sebastian's penmanship on the envelope and a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes creeps on his face. Blaine has always liked the way his name looks in Sebastian's handwriting. 

With a sigh, he turns the envelope to open it but stops when the door opens and a head suddenly pokes into the room.

"Honey, we're about to start soon. Are you ready?" The familiar face smiles at Blaine and he smiles back as if automatic.

"O-okay, I'll be out soon," he replies, not breaking eye contact until the person is gone and the door is closed once more.

Blaine lets out another nervous, shaky breath, and opens the letter. He feels a heavy pit sitting in his stomach as his eyes run over the words at the top:

_ Dear Blaine,  _

_ “If I had more time, I would’ve written a shorter letter.” _


End file.
